


That Kind of Phone Call

by StopForRedLights



Category: Gallagher Girls Series - Ally Carter, The West Wing
Genre: west wing/gallagher girls crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6156427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopForRedLights/pseuds/StopForRedLights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Rachel, Simon Donovan was shot and killed.” </p><p>Another time that Abby Cameron has to call her older sister and explain that someone she loves is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Kind of Phone Call

“Rachel,Simon Donovan was shot and killed.” She saw a pulse of red against her eyelids.  
“What?” Her mouth dry.  
“He was shot and killed last night in Times Square by a civilian. A robber in a mini-mart.” Rachel almost laughed. Good one, Abby. Simon Donavan? Shot by a civilian?  
“Abby, he’s Secret Service. That’s a safe gig.” Silence. “I don’t understand. He had the training.”  
“I know.”  
“I don’t understand, Abby.”  
I don’t understand. How many times had she told her sister that when Andrew had died?

Rachel, the older sister. She was supposed to understand everything. She was the one who was supposed to explain things to Abby: how to find the hidden passageway in the library, how to disarm a man using only a tube of lipstick, how to get mom off of her back about her P and E grade.

“That was a safe job, Abby. He kept his own name, for chrissake.”  
“I know.” Abby let out a gasp, a sob, something too similar to a sigh of relief. Finally, you’re done waiting for the phone call that tells you the time of death. You’ve always been waiting. That’s how it is. From the moment you meet anyone, you wait for that call.

Rachel’s next instinct: how am I going to tell Andrew? Another one of his best friends gone. Fallen off the face of the world for both of them. Simon Donavan, the one that her husband would tell her stories about. The three of them, Andrew, Solomon, and Donovan at Blackthorne.  
“One day, we’ll all have a barbecue, Rachel. They’ll be like Cammie’s godfathers.”  
It was always dangerous to say things like that out loud. Even trained operatives don’t know how to disarm fate. 

But Andrew- she'd forgotten. He was gone, too. 

“Rachel, he found the shooters that tried to kill Bartlet.” Abby didn’t mention that he could have done it in his sleep. “He completed his mission.”  
But when has that ever been enough?


End file.
